


Honestly, I'm not looking for trouble

by china_shop



Category: Actor RPF, Fandom RPF, due South
Genre: Crack, Fic, Llamas, M/M, Mary Sue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-08
Updated: 2006-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Three castaways." Fraser's posture's all straight and businesslike now. "We'd better tell the captain."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honestly, I'm not looking for trouble

Fraser and Ray are playing a bizarre game of frisbee on the games deck. It involves running around and laughing breathlessly, and bumping into each other a lot (which they seem to enjoy). Ray is in shorts and a grey t-shirt, and he's wearing his sunglasses. Fraser's wearing tracksuit pants and a blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I guess he ransacked the lost property closet or something.

Ray throws the frisbee toward Fraser and then rushes around, trying to distract him before Fraser can catch it. Fraser's focused, though, and keeps his eye on the target. He reaches up-- but a gust of sea wind carries the disc out to sea.

Ray runs up behind him, shading his glasses and squinting out to sea. "We lost it, huh?"

"I'm afraid so." Fraser squints at the horizon. "Ray."

"Yeah? What? You wanna go back to the cabin?" Ray raises his eyebrows suggestively, and nudges his shoulder against Fraser's.

"Maybe later." Fraser points out to sea. "I think there's a lifeboat out there."

Ray moves up to the railing, following the line of his arm. "Where? Oh. Oh, yeah. I got it. I got it. Jesus, you're right."

"Three castaways." Fraser's posture's all straight and businesslike now. "We'd better tell the captain."

***

The captain alters the cruiseliner's course, and the ship plows through the dark blue waves towards the lifeboat. You and I emerge from the library to see what all the fuss is about: the ship's crew are scurrying around getting ropes and hooks and blankets ready to welcome the lost travellers.

We lean over the side and try to make them out. "A guy and two girls?" you guess.

"Looks like it." I shut my eyes against the glare and don't even try to follow the action. Everyone else is taking care of this. I'm drowsy and distracted by Hth's Ray/Ray series, which I've just been reading.

Finally the bedraggled castaways are hauled up the side of the cruiseliner, and wrapped in blankets. "Thank you," says one of them (one of the girls, except it turns out he's really just a guy with long curly hair). A deck hand gives him a water bottle, and he clutches it tightly with both hands. "Thank you so much. We had to get away. Had to. But oh god, it's been hell."

The guy-who's-obviously-a-guy (talk, clean cut, broad shoulders) says, "It's okay, Garett. We're safe now."

The woman-who's-actually-a-woman says, "You've been saying that for a week, Richard. Now, thank god, it's finally true. I could really use a shower."

Richard turns to the captain. "We want to apply for refugee status."

"On what grounds?" asks Fraser, stepping forward.

"They were being mean to us," says Garett, waving his hand at the horizon. "Mostly me. Half of them were mocking me, and the other half were making me out to be some kind of a wimp who can't take a joke."

Fraser tilts his head. "They who?" But for once, no one's really listening to him.

The captain takes off his hat and scratches his bald head. "I'm afraid we only take Canadians and Australasians. But we can give you passage to a safe port."

Dief runs up and licks Richard's hand, enthusiastically, and Richard ruffles his ears. "Hey there, boy. Good dog."

"He's a wolf," says Ray, bristling.

"He's my wolf, actually," says Fraser, mildly. "That is, he resides with me."

Richard's eyes glint. "Is that so." He straightens up, and looks Fraser up and down.

Ray takes a step closer to Fraser, and folds his arms across his chest.

"Let's discuss this in private," the captain tells the castaways, moving between Richard and Ray.

The woman moans. "Can't we have breakfast first, and a shower?"

The captain shakes his head apologetically. "I'm afraid we have to sort out your status before we can assign you accommodation or let you roam freely aboard the ship. I don't suppose you brought your passports?"

The woman sighs, and moves her weight to one hip. She pulls a passport out of her back pocket and hands it over.

The captain examines it, briefly, then looks up. His eyes are wide. "Ms. Apple," he says. "My daughter's a big fan. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement." And he shepherds them off towards the staff only area.

**Author's Note:**

> With oodles of thanks to mergatrude for sailing with me, and sageness for finding it funny and egging me on. I'm really _really_ not interested in joining in the wank, I just-- am weak, and had to write this.


End file.
